


All Good Fish go to Heaven

by zinke



Category: West Wing
Genre: Gen, Humor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-05-08
Updated: 2008-05-08
Packaged: 2017-10-12 04:40:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,846
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/120912
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zinke/pseuds/zinke
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>'Please tell me that that fish,' he said, pointing at the bowl reproachfully, 'is supposed to be doing that.'</p>
            </blockquote>





	All Good Fish go to Heaven

**Author's Note:**

> Written for round one of the LJ comm sorkin-fest's writers challenge; the prompt used can be found at the end of the story - I wouldn't want to give away too much just yet! Thanks to my beta caz963, who by the time this is posted will have embarked on her across-the-pond adventure to see the fabulous Bradley Whitford in _Boeing, Boeing!_ and cause all manner of fannish mischief in the city that never sleeps. See ya soon, hun!

"Donna? Where the hell are the preliminary budget projections?"

"What?"

Josh fought the urge to roll his eyes as he rose stiffly from his desk and made his way out to the bullpen where Donna was typing diligently, attention wholly focused on her task. "The budget projections. I need to see them before I meet with Cryer and his appropriations cronies tomorrow."

"Check CJ's office."

"Why would they be in there?"

Donna shot him an exasperated look over the top of her computer monitor. "Josh, I have a lot of work to do. Remember?"

"Hey, it's not my fault Leo wants those recommendations on his desk by noon."

"True, but it is your fault that I didn't get your final marks ups until…" Donna made a show of glancing at her watch, "twenty minutes ago."

"I told you I was sorry about that!"

"Whatever," she replied, tempering her dismissal with a smile. "The projections are on CJ's desk. She was looking them over last night before she left."

"'Kay."

Josh turned and began to amble down the corridor, but he hadn't made it more than a couple steps before Donna's voice carried down the hallway after him. "You should feed Gail while you're in there."

Josh stopped short, confusion furrowing his brow as he swiveled and returned to her cubicle. "Who?"

"Gail." When the expected comprehension didn't dawn, Donna clarified, "CJ's fish?"

"I agreed to feed CJ's fish?"

"Yes."

"Why would I have done that?"

"Because Carol usually does, but she's with CJ. And besides you owed her for that stunt with the rubber snake you pulled last week."

"Oh. Right."

He turned again to leave but hesitated, a question forming on his lips.

"Upper right-hand desk drawer," Donna said matter-of-factly before he could say a word.

Josh studied the top of her head suspiciously. "How did you know–?"

Donna merely glanced up at him and arched an eyebrow before returning her attention to the sheaf of papers on her desk and shooing him away with a wave of her hand.

Josh made his way through the ante-room and into CJ's office, giving the space a cursory glance as he flipped on the lights and made his way inside. Retrieving the canister of fish food from CJ's desk, he absentmindedly unscrewed the lid before pulling out a hefty pinch of crimson colored flakes. Bending down Josh dropped Gail's breakfast into the bowl, then stopped short, his eyes growing wider and wider as he took in the watery scene.

"Donna!... DONNA!"

"What?" Donna tore around the corner and rushed into the office with alarming speed, her eyes wide with concern. "Josh? What's wrong?"

"Please tell me that that fish," he said, pointing at the bowl reproachfully, "is _supposed_ to be doing that."

"Doing what?" she asked as she bent down and looked into the bowl. "Oh," she added softly a moment later as she caught sight of Gail, eyes wide and unseeing, bobbing gently upside-down at the water's surface.

"Well?"

"No."

"No?" Josh yelped.

Straightening, she turned to face him, her expression grave. "I'm sorry, Josh."

"Are you sure? Maybe it's – she's just sleeping."

Donna shook her head. "No."

"How can you tell?"

"Fish don't sleep that way, Josh. And when they die, their swim bladder fills with air and becomes distended, which is why they float like that." She shrugged sadly. "There's probably nothing you could have done."

"Nothing I could've — Donna, CJ's gonna kill me!"

She didn't even try to argue the point. "Should I go and get her on the phone for you?"

"What, now?"

"Were you planning to wait and tell her in person when she's within arm's reach of you and any number of potentially dangerous office supplies?"

"Good point. But I have a better idea."

"Oh God."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"If you'll recall, your last 'good idea' is what got you into this mess in the first place."

"This is different."

"Really," she replied, her voice dripping with sarcasm.

"Yes."

"And what exactly does this supposed brilliant idea of yours entail?"

Josh tossed a final glance at the bowl perched on the corner of the desk before turning and shepherding Donna out the door. "I need you to get me the address of the nearest pet store."

 

* * * *

"How did you know all that stuff about bloated fish sphincters anyway?" Josh asked as he led Donna past several aisles of dog kibble and chew toys towards a dimly lit area at the back of the pet store labeled 'Aquatics'.

"Swim bladders, and my father used to keep a fish pond in our back yard. Can I just say again, for the record, that I think this is an absolutely terrible idea."

"It's a great idea. CJ's gonna come home tomorrow and be greeted by a happy, healthy goldfish. She's happy, I'm happy, everybody's happy. How about this one?" he asked, stopping in front of a large aquarium and pointing at one of its numerous occupants.

Donna leaned in to study the fish in question. "Too orange."

"Okay… this one, then."

"No; it's tail's too flowy."

"You've got to be kidding me."

"Josh," she began, turning to face him, hands settled on her hips, "ever since Danny gave Gail to CJ, that fishbowl has sat on her desk – a place where, like you she spends an inordinate amount of her time. Sometimes CJ even talks to her. Don't you think she's going to notice if her fish suddenly changes color?"

"CJ talks to her goldfish? Why didn't you tell me this before? I could have put that information to good use."

"Josh. Focus please."

"Okay then which one would you choose, Mrs. Gorton?"

Donna gave him a gentle push and stepped forward to carefully peruse the contents of first one tank, then another. "This one," she finally replied with a confident nod.

"You do realize that this sort of makes you an accomplice."

"Josh, this really isn't the time to be reminding me of that fact. Now help me find someone who can get this little guy out of there so we can get back to the office."

"Wait a minute – guy? Won't CJ be able to tell if it's a—"

"Josh…"

"I'll be right back."

 

* * * *

"Have you seen the latest draft of the speech for the GDC dinner? I think the section on emissions standards could still use a little work."

CJ leaned back in her chair and tossed the AP wire report she'd been skimming onto her desk with an exaggerated sigh. "Hi, CJ. How are you doing? How was the President's trip? It's nice to see that his absurd and never-ending trivia about the amazing Corn Palace of Mitchell, South Dakota didn't drive you completely insane."

"Well, seeing as you're talking to yourself right now, I'd beg to differ on that last one." The glare she shot him could have withered a cactus, and Josh had to good grace to look contrite – if only for a moment. "Sorry. How was the trip?"

"Long. But fruitful, I think. We'll know for sure in a couple of days. Things okay here while I was gone?" Without his realizing it, Josh's gaze dropped reflexively to the fishbowl on her desk.

"Josh?" she prompted warily after a few seconds.

His eyes snapped back up to hers and he forced himself to give her what he hoped was a winning smile. "Of course. Believe it or not CJ, we can get by for forty-eight hours without you."

"That'll be the day," she muttered. "Leave me a copy of the speech; I'll take a look at it as soon as I've finished the afternoon briefing."

"Thanks."

Josh handed her the pages and had already turned to leave when her next words stopped him dead in his tracks. "Hey, Josh? While I was gone, did you notice whether Gail was acting…" CJ shook her head self-consciously as he turned round to face her. "Never mind."

"Okay." Josh cleared his throat nervously as his gaze again dropped against his will to her desk and the incriminating bowl.

"It's just – and this is going to sound a little crazy – but Gail doesn't seem to be acting like herself today and I was wondering if you'd noticed anything."

"Nope. Not a thing," he said a little too quickly, and CJ's eyes narrowed imperceptibly in response. Josh jerked his thumb over his shoulder and began backing hastily towards the door. "Listen CJ, I really have to get back to—"

"Josh, what's going on?"

"Going…on? Nothing."

"You haven't done something stupid again, have you?"

"You know, I really resent whatever it is you're implying, CJ."

"Okay, Josh," she countered as she rose from her chair and leaned forward across her desk. "Don't make me have to come over there and hurt you."

"It wasn't my fault," he finally spluttered. "Her swim…thingy exploded or something. I don't know; ask Donna. But what I do know is that it wasn't my fault."

"Josh—"

"I came in here to feed her, just like you'd asked—"

"Josh—"

"—and I figured it would be easier for you – kinder even – if you didn't have to find out, so I—"

"Josh!" He stopped short, eyes wide and CJ fought to keep the amusement out of her voice as she continued, "Are you telling me that this," she paused to point at the fish in question, who appeared to be watching the exchange from behind her decorative podium with unabashed interest, "isn't Gail?"

"Well, it is a Gail. Just not… _your_ Gail." Josh took a deep breath before meeting her eyes and adding earnestly, "I really am sorry, CJ."

There was a pregnant pause which was broken suddenly by the undignified sound of an amused snort from CJ, which quickly blossomed into an unrestrained giggle.

"CJ?" Josh ventured nervously, taking a step forward.

CJ raised a hand to silence him as she fought to regain her composure. "Josh, did you honestly think that this hasn't happened before?"

"Before?"

"I know I've said so in the past, but you really are very sweet sometimes. I can barely keep the plants in my apartment alive – what made you think I'd do any better with a fish?"

Josh grinned at her knowingly. "How many?"

"Counting this one? Three."

"Three."

CJ nodded sheepishly. "I didn't want Danny to find out. And it seems that, dare I say it, great minds think alike."

"Apparently." Josh hesitated for only a moment before adding slyly, "Though CJ, in light of this new information I do feel compelled to ask whether you've made it a habit to converse with _all_ of Gail's various incarnations? Because I've got to tell you, if they haven't got proper security clearance—"

"Out. Now."

"Sure thing – so as long as Gail agrees." Josh bent down and tapped the glass bowl with his finger. "So, Gail, what do you say?"

"What part of 'now' didn't you understand, Josh?"

Straightening, he gave CJ a parting smirk. "I understood perfectly. Now," he drawled as he sauntered to the door, "we're even."

 

*fin.*

**Author's Note:**

> Written in response to the prompt, "Gail the goldfish finally dies". Given that Gail is one of the most underrated secondary characters ever, I just couldn't resist.


End file.
